Talking About
by SilverMidnight52
Summary: After a fight with House Chase quits. Wilson puts it on himself to help Chase. What is Chase hiding from everyone?


I own nothing. Sad, happy. Enjoy!

* * *

"Chase will be back, Wilson," House said waving his hand at me.

"You went too far this time," I said shaking my head.

"Then go follow him," he said rolling his eyes, "I have a case I have to solve."

I glared at House for a moment before leaving his office and going to mine. I sat down at my desk and tried to ignore the bad feeling. After five minutes of trying to do work I got up and grabbed the keys to my car and left.

The drive to Chase's apartment seemed to go in slow motion. I pulled in front of Chase's apartment and went into the building. Chase lived on the fifth floor of the six story building and the elevator was broken.

Going to the steps I ran up them two at a time. My heart started to race as ways of what Chase could be doing to himself ran through my head. It wasn't that I thought Chase had ever hurt himself, but I was still afraid for him.

I didn't think to knock on the door and luckily for me it had been unlocked. Walking through the apartment I tried to listen for where Chase might have been, but it was too quiet.

The shower started a second later. I let out a sigh when I heard the noise of the water and was preparing to leave. Then I heard a noise from the bathroom that didn't seem to fit.

Walking to the door slowly I pressed my ear to it and listened. This time when I heard the noise I could tell right off the bat that it was the sound of someone sobbing to themselves.

Without thinking I opened the bathroom door and walked in. Chase must not have heard the door open because he didn't turn to me. I didn't know if I was grateful for that yet or not.

Looking over his body I saw that he had yet to do anything to himself, though he was slightly skinny. The knife in his right hand is was caught my attention next. It looked too sharp.

"Chase," I said before I could stop myself.

With a gasp Chase turned around to face me. Shock and fear seemed to adorn his features completely. His grip on the knife seemed to tighten even more as he continued to stare at me.

"House send you here?" Chase asked glaring at me.

"No," I said softly, "I came on my own."

"Then leave on your own," he said angrily.

"Not until I know you won't hurt yourself," I said stepping closer to him.

Chase glared harder at me before sighing and dropping the knife. I stared at him confused and wondered if this was just a ploy to get me to go. Looking into his eyes though I knew it wasn't.

"Come on," I said handing him a towel, "We'll talk."

"Okay," Chase said nodding his head.

He took the towel from me and walked past me to his bed room. I followed him slightly, but made sure that I was giving him enough space so he didn't feel overcrowded by me.

Once Chase had slipped into a pair of boxers and gray pajama pants we went into the living room. His house looked nothing like I was expecting it to. It was completely the opposite of the man he was at work.

"I guess you want to know why I had that knife in there," Chase said sighing.

"Yeah," I said nodding, "But only if you're ready."

"I hate birthdays," he said sitting down on a black couch, "I hate remembering. I hate today."

"What is today?" I asked confused.

"It would have been our five year anniversary," he said sadly, "I promised that we would go to New York and watch a Broadway play."

"Who?" I said softly.

"My boyfriend," he said shaking his head, "Big surprise, I'm gay."

"I'm bi," I said shrugging, "So is House."

"Can I get off track for one moment?" he asked turning to me, "Did you and him ever have a thing?"

"Once when we first started here," I said smirking, "But I had also downed almost a whole bottle of alcohol, so I wasn't in my right mind."

"Good excuse," he said smiling, "Anyway, before I moved here he and I were talking about moving in together and adopting a daughter."

"That didn't happen though," I said softly.

"No," he said tears filling his eyes, "He was on his way to pick me up from work when a car hit him. I didn't know it was him when they wheeled him into the O.R."

"Chase," I said not knowing what to say.

"It's been a long time since then," he said standing up, "But I miss him so much. He was amazing and I hate that I'm not with him, but he wouldn't want me to kill myself. That's why I dropped the knife."

I stood up and walked closer to him hoping that I would figure out something to do or say, but nothing was coming to me. I had been telling people that they were going to die all my career, but I was at a loss for words now.

"This is him," Chase said showing me a frame picture, "His name was Zane. He was a vet and a good one. The animals loved him and so did the owners, even when he had to tell them the animal wasn't going to make it."

In the picture it was Zane and Chase standing in front of a '67 Chevy Impala. He looked so proud in that picture that I wasn't sure if it was because of the car or because of Chase being there.

"He was handsome," I said softly.

"You remind me of him," he said sighing, "Both of you are good people and people know they can trust you and you'll do everything you can for them."

"Yeah," I said nodding.

"And that car," he said shaking his head, "He loved that car so much. He would joke around and say that if I ever left him he would still have one of the loves of his life. The car didn't make it either. I wanted to have it rebuilt, but it was too expensive. I looked into buying one here because I wanted something too remind me of him, but I still didn't have enough money."

"I know someone who has one," I said smiling.

"You do?" he asked confused.

"Yeah," I said nodding, "And he just got his license revoked. Don't ask."

"Okay," he said cocking his head to the side.

"I'm going to give him a call," I said patting his shoulder, "I know he was looking for someone to give the car to."

"I won't have enough money," he said leaning against the wall.

"I mean literally give it," I said smirking, "He has no other family and he only has a month to live. He'll give it to you."

Chase stared at me with wide eyes before throwing his arms around me. I hugged him back gently and pulled away. I tugged my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed the number.

The man and I talked for awhile before he agreed to let Chase have the car. He wanted the whole story about why the car was so important, but I didn't think it was my place to tell it.

We hung up and agreed to have Chase come get the car tomorrow when the man came in for his appointment. Chase was happy to hear about the arrangement with the car and the man.

"Thank you Wilson," Chase said grinning.

"No problem," I said smiling back, "Just glad I got here when I did."

"It's not the first time I've done something like that," he said shrugging, "I do it a few times a year actually."

"Well," I said sighing, "Not anymore. Next time I want you to come to me."

"And what?" he asked confused, "Go out and get drunk?"

"No," I said rolling my eyes, "Unless you want to."

"Maybe," he said honestly.

"I meant we could talk," I said softly, "About Zane or anything."

"Thanks," he said taking a deep breath, "I think I'd like talking about him. I haven't in awhile. I try my hardest not to think about him."

"That won't help," I said going to the front door, "I've seen more families torn about because they try not to think about what's happening or what has happened. It will just end up hurting more if you do that Chase."

"I know Wilson," he said sitting on the couch, "It was just too much to think about him. It was too soon."

"It will always be too soon," I said opening the door, "That just means you have to face it no matter what happens. You can't run from it."

"I know," he said facing me, "Would you like to stay for dinner? I think I could use one of those talks now."

"Sure," I said shutting the door, "Let me tell House you're fine though."

"Because he was so worried," he said laughing.

"You'd be surprised," I said smirking, "I know House a lot better then most. The more he acts like he doesn't care the more he does."

"And the times he doesn't care?" he asked softly.

"Are the times when he breaks your heart," I said looking away, "And those times you are the one that has to act like you don't care and learn to move on."

"Talking from experience?" he asked slowly.

"I am," I said nodding, "That just makes it worse. This is House though. No one can control him. Not even himself sometimes."


End file.
